


bring me home

by doubletan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Gen, HEHE (or i like to think until the loki tv show is out), Happy Ending, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mother-Son Relationship, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Post-Avengers (2012), minor stuff since its only about loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 17:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18642520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubletan/pseuds/doubletan
Summary: It was of no surprise that the Tesseract had brought him back to Asgard.





	bring me home

**Author's Note:**

> just a short fic to cope with my endgame feels. making the best out of 10 seconds of loki :"D

It was of no surprise that the Tesseract had brought him back to Asgard.

The stone hallways of the palace, the towering pillars, the crisp air on Asgard so vastly different from the pollution back in Midgard- _Foolish,_ he thought. Was he not the one who had berated Thor for his sentiment?

But even so, he wanted to weep at the sight of it.

No matter how hard he had tried (oh he had, so did Thanos, so did The Other.) to carve Asgard out of his memories, his life, his _soul;_ a malignant tumor that had to be cut out once and for all, cleanly and swiftly, leaving no traces behind. Could not bear not to do so.

Asgard was not his nor did he them, no amount of lies could ever possibly grant him what had never belonged to him in the first place.

But just like the wretched creature he was: liar, betrayer, and first and foremost: a monster by nature, only one word would come unbidden to his mind.

_Home._

He took a cautious step forward, footstep quiet in the empty hallway.

The logical thing to do was to leave, pretend none of this had ever happened. Escape to the far reaches of the galaxy, the edge of the universe, anywhere where Asgard is nothing but an unfamiliar word.

He was under no delusions Thanos would find him no matter how far he ran. It was only a matter of time. But at the very least, he could prevent Asgard from being punished for his failure.

He looked down at the glowing Tesseract and not only felt, but _saw_ the universe in his hands.

He breathed in shakily, placed both hands firmly against the sides of the Tesseract once more, envisions the furthest place he had ever been from Asgard and-

"Loki?"

The voice came no louder than a whisper, but even then Loki could never mistake his mother's voice.

Frigga ran towards him, and he could only take an involuntary step back away from her before he was embraced.

The Tesseract fell to the ground with a clink. And at that moment, it mattered little to Loki.

He had forgotten how it felt to be touched, gently, softly, without the promise of pain in every contact. But even as his arms lift to hug her tightly, he had squeezed his eyes shut, waited, expected, braced himself for the pain to come.

But it never did.

Only warmth and the familiar scent of Mother, of flowers, of baked bread, of the fragrance of her Vanaheim perfume she had used ever since Loki was just a babe, the musty smell that the sewing room has which Mother no doubt came from.

Of _home_.

He fluttered his eyes shut, latched onto her greedily, gave himself in to this one last comfort, this one last respite, even as disgust unfurled in his belly at his selfishness, to be memorized and to be savored in time to come once he leaves Asgard for good.

He pulled away.

He could not miss the hurt and confusion on her face.

His heart clenched tightly, but he could not bear to touch her again knowing what he was now. It was for her own sake.

There was little good in associating oneself with monsters.

But Frigga was not deterred. With nimble hands, she released the muzzle and the binds on his hands swiftly.

Loki blinked, working his jaw. The muzzle had hurt.

"Mother?" he asked.

She picked up the Tesseract on the floor carelessly, eyes darting to look around the corridor.

Seeing no one, she smiled conspiratorially at him. "Come with me."

No one seemed to notice that Odin's second son had returned from the dead or the huge glowing stone in her hands as Frigga strode confidently across the many halls and corridors, and he concluded that she had put a concealment spell on them.

She never once turned back, expecting Loki to follow her, and a rebellious part of him was tempted to do the opposite of what she asked before he squashed the thought away.

And as they entered her private chambers, Loki felt as if he was once again a child, a time where there had been no hesitance in bounding in happily anytime of the day to see her. And then those visits had became scarcer over the years, before they tapered off into nothing.

He lingered at the doorway. It did not seem right to enter, to tarnish the space and the memories of an ignorant, but happy past.

Mother put the Tesseract down on the table.

"And what are you doing Loki?" She said, amusement on her face as if everything was alright, as if everything had been the same as it was, as if he had not been gone for years, as if he was still her son and not a wanted criminal.

Before he could say anything, she had tilted her head towards the couch. "Sit down."

Her words left no room for argument. Unable to muster the courage to go against her, he sat down carefully.

She smiled, pleased. It made something warm and dangerous curl in his stomach, and he could not summon the energy to banish it away.

He felt choked by it. Suffocated.

He hated it.

He missed her.

She began to take out some objects from her drawers, her back shielding them from Loki's view.

"What are you doing?" he asked finally.

She turned back to him briefly. "You're hurt my dear."

"It's alright. I can go to the healers."

Mother had that expression on her face where she clearly knew what Loki thought, that the last place he would go to was the healers. But she said instead, "Are you saying your mother is not a competent healer?"

Loki looked up panickedly, fearing he had offended her. But there was only a wry smile on her lips and no animosity he could see in her expression. She had been joking.

It was hard to differentiate them lately.

He felt his shoulders relaxed, and he mustered up a small smile. "No, of course not."

Satisfied, she turned back to the table.

He looked around the room, at Frigga grinding herbs at the table just out of arm's reach, and he waited for it all to disappear, to fade away like every one of Thanos' illusions, waited for the rug to be pulled under him.

He scratched nervously into his hands.

He had never expected this to happen.  

Frigga brought the salve she had made over, and Loki caught her hand before she dipped her fingers into it.

He let go immediately, eyes averted to the floor to avoid seeing her expression.

'I'll do it," he said.

She made a non-committal hum, sat down beside him, and conjured a mirror.

Loki could feel her eyes on him as he placed the slave over the cuts on his face, feeling the skin mend under the paste.

He dare not lift his armor and apply it to the rest of his wounds. For there were places that he could not reach and the pain was better than to even imagine Mother's hand on his skin.

When he was done, he passed it back to her.

Frigga's mouth set itself into a grim line, but she did not object to his callous application of the salve.

While her back was turned to him once more as she cleared her worktable, he eyed the glowing Tesseract sitting conspicuously at the edge of it.

If he was going to leave for good, he let out a shuddering breath, then he wanted to know.  

He heard himself speak the words more than he thought them. "Did you mourn?"

She turned around sharply, her brows furrowed.

Loki lifted his head high, his face impassive.

She moved towards him, stopping only when she stood front of him.

Loki was afraid to move.

"Of course I did," she breathed. "Which mother would not mourn her son's death?"

She cupped his face in her hands.

Her touch burned him, burned him like the revulsion rising like acid in his stomach, and he flinched away from her.

Hurt flickered on her face.

Some part of him savored in it.

He smiled mirthlessly. "But I'm not your son, am I?"

"Loki, your heritage does not matter-"

He stood up, and before he knew it, he was shouting at her. "If it did not matter, why did you let Odin keep the truth from me?"

She wrung her hands together, and Loki could not help but see the resemblance between the both of them.

It meant nothing, he told himself viciously. It defined nothing. It was nothing more than a mere act a cuckoo bird had picked up on in his naivety.

Frigga pursed her lips tightly even as they shook.

She looked at the floor, and back at Loki again, her eyes wet with tears.

Loki felt a fissure in his heart.

He looked at the Tesseract from the corner of his eye, glowing and tempting. If only he could whisk himself away right now. Anywhere away from here. Somewhere where he would not hurt the people he love anymore.

"You're right," she said.

Loki froze, and time seemed to stop.

"You're right," she said. "I'm sorry. Your father and I..." she shook her head, "both of us were wrong to hide it from you."

She looked up at him, and Loki was caught in her gaze.

He could not move as she grasped his hands tightly in hers.

"Let us make it up to you,' she whispered.

It was as if something in him was righted once more. Not everything, but it felt like the biggest jagged piece of jigsaw in his heart had found its place in its puzzle.

And when she embraced him once more, he let her, and the thought to pull away never came.

 _Home,_ he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://doubletan.tumblr.com)


End file.
